The Lamp That Leads Shines Twice as Bright

“The lamp only glows in the hands of those who dare to run first.” Andre Chen

I’m in transit — from Lisbon to Baku, sitting at Frankfurt airport — and this moment from Wednesday suddenly came to mind.

It was a pure autumn day, October fading into November. Not too cold yet, but that kind of humid air that already calls for a mountain raincoat.

I was at Palmense ( the local soccer club), watching the boys train — running around the field. Nothing special, a basic drill, perhaps.

But what caught my attention was how they were arranged in the run — a perfect Gaussian curve.

At the front, the fastest and strongest, setting the pace and making sure no one passed them.

In the middle, the crowd — those who prefer to stay unnoticed, avoiding both the spotlight and the shame of being last.

At the back, the ones who let themselves fall behind — not necessarily weaker, but perhaps discouraged, intimidated, or simply distracted.

As I watched, I noticed the coaches.

Their eyes were locked only on the four boys leading the pack — the pioneers, the fighters, the ones who “count.” And Rodrigo my son was one of them.

During six laps, they never looked to the middle; the herd was too large to focus on individuals.

And the ones at the back… not once did they look. They simply didn’t exist.

How interesting that such a simple exercise reflects our world in general and particularly in dentistry.

The lamp that leads shines twice as bright — and no one looks at the herd.

Everyone judges those who fall behind, and few notice the quiet effort of those trying to keep up.

Those in front set the rhythm. They don’t let anyone break the pace.

They’re the strong, the stoic ones — creating new protocols, adapting to new realities, embracing every challenge.

I don’t want to be in the middle or at the back.

I want to be like Rodrigo — leading.

Even with a twisted ankle, the kid (Rodrigo) kept his position. He finished.

Even in pain, ready to give up, he crossed the line like a true captain.

He cried, yes — but he cried in my arms, in the car, away from everyone, surrounded by his brother and sister.

He took a shower, composed himself, and he fulfilled his mission.

There were others who finished without sweating, without pain, without tears —

but they were in the middle of the pack, or behind it.

It’s not the same. It wasn’t the same training.

Yesterday, I did another Falcon case — a navigated surgery on a 26, with poor visibility.

One of those cases where we fight with drill lengths and sinus proximity.

I performed a circular flap, lifted the cap of keratinized mucosa, and dynamically went through each drill diameter until implant insertion.

The preparation protocol is flawless — the feeling on the handpiece matches perfectly with what appears on the screen.

My only critique: the implant insertion step can’t yet be navigated.

With this aggressive thread, in soft bone, the implant tends to slip apically into another position.

Still, the vestibular offset was less than 1 mm (0.83!)

The lamp that leads doesn’t just shine twice —

it shines far more than that.

Think about that in your life , and carry the lamp , it’s a beautiful felling !

Have a great weekend.

🦷✨